


of their purple bodies

by The_Wavesinger



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post-Canon, Rough Sex as a poor form of emotional coping, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, We All Need Years Of Therapy But Let's Try Sex Instead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 20:49:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20513297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Wavesinger/pseuds/The_Wavesinger
Summary: Cassian wakes up, and nothing is okay.





	of their purple bodies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Penknife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penknife/gifts).

> Title from Statuary by Katherine Larson, as suggested by a kind nonnie on FFA.

Cassian wakes up.

Cassian wakes up, and that’s something he thought would never happen again.

Cassian wakes up, and Bodhi is sitting next to his bed, and there are monitors beeping all around him, and Bodhi is looking at him like he’s the only thing in the world. There are tears streaming down Bodhi’s face, and he reaches out and his arms are around Cassian, warm and comforting and something Cassian’s never felt before.

There are tubes coming out of Cassian’s body everywhere, but he moves them around until he’s—he’s not exactly comfortable, stiff and still, but.

It’s nice.

—

It’s nice, until—

“Where’s everyone else?” he mumbles into Bodhi’s shoulder.

Bodhi draws back, and in that moment, Cassian _knows_.

He knows, because he has lived this life for a long, long time, and that expression, the way Bodhi looks at him, fumbles for words, is so familiar.

“They’re gone,” Bodhi says, and his face crumples, and he’s crying. He’s crying, and he didn’t even know any of them that well, Cassian thinks, angrily. And he knows he’s being cruel, being sharp and unkind, but.

He bites down on his lip until he bleeds. He doesn’t shed a single tear.

—

The Death Star was destroyed.

Some kid from some far-off desert backwater blew it up. The kid is a Jedi. General Kenobi of Clone Wars fame came out of hiding for him, trained him until Vader sliced him (Kenobi, not the kid), in half.

Cassian should be happy about that. He should at least be glad that the sacrifices they made weren’t in vain.

But he and Bodhi sit together and watch the medal ceremony, and he digs his nail into the palm of his hand the entire time.

Afterwards, he throws up, again and again, while Bodhi watches, wide-eyed.

—

The thing is—

The thing is, he doesn’t know Bodhi well at all. The only one of them he really _knew_ was Kaytoo (but he tries not to think about Kaytoo, because losing the only f—no. Don’t think about it). But he knew Jyn and even Baze and Chirrut better than he knew—knows—Bodhi.

Still, they gravitate towards each other. They eat together, go to the meetings they’re required to attend together, sit next to each other in the rec room, partner in training.

At night, they end up in the same bed. They don’t talk about it.

—

Bodhi kisses him one night, out of the blue. It’s hard and desperate.

Cassian responds without thought, equally hard and equally desperate.

They scrabble at each other’s clothes, pull at each other’s hair. Bodhi leaves long nail-marks down the length of Cassian’s back, pink and glaring and stinging. Cassian bites down on the skin of Bodhi’s neck, tugs at the skin with his teeth, leaving a ring of bright purple bruises behind.

When Bodhi swallows Cassian’s cock, he makes no attempt to cover his teeth. When Cassian returns the favour, he pinches the head of Bodhi’s cock as he strokes.

—

Bodhi has a pilot’s hands.

He can hold a gun, yes, but he’s better with instruments, with knobs and dials.

He’s brilliant with Cassian’s body. He can play him like a maestro. He learns all the secret places of Cassian’s body, learns that biting on Cassian’s nipple has him mewling like a baby, learns that there’s a spot just near his navel that seems connected to his cock, because when Bodhi pinches it, the pain shoots lightning-sharp down his groin.

Cassian’s had a lot of sex, but in any other circumstance, Bodhi would be the best fuck he’s ever had.

—

When Bodhi laughs (rare as it is, sometimes Cassian manages to say something, and he lives for those moments), he looks carefree. His hair falls across his face, and his eyes light up. He’s beautiful.

When Cassian was younger, he thought that when the war was over, he’d settle down. Maybe even have children, as silly it sounded even then.

In another life, maybe—

But in this life, it’s just the two of them, clutching onto each other desperately, trying to keep their heads above the water. In this life, they hold on with both hands to what they have.


End file.
